Sunday, June 23, 2013

Release Event: Killing Sarai by J.A. Redmerski

Sarai was only fourteen when her mother uprooted her to live in Mexico with a notorious drug lord. Over time she forgot what it was like to live a normal life, but she never let go of her hope to escape the compound where she has been held for the past nine years.

Victor is a cold-blooded assassin who, like Sarai, has known only death and violence since he was a young boy. When Victor arrives at the compound to collect details and payment for a hit, Sarai sees him as her only opportunity for escape. But things don’t go as planned and instead of finding transport back to Tucson, she finds herself free from one dangerous man and caught in the clutches of another.

While on the run, Victor strays from his primal nature as he succumbs to his conscience and resolves to help Sarai. As they grow closer, he finds himself willing to risk everything to keep her alive; even his relationship with his devoted brother and liaison, Niklas, who now like everyone else wants Sarai dead.

As Victor and Sarai slowly build a trust, the differences between them seem to lessen, and an unlikely attraction intensifies. But Victor’s brutal skills and experience may not be enough in the end to save her, as the power she unknowingly holds over him may ultimately be what gets her killed.

This is their story…

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J.A. Redmerski, New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of THE EDGE OF NEVER lives in North Little Rock, Arkansas with her three children and a Maltese. She is a lover of television and books that push boundaries and is a huge fan of AMC's The Walking Dead.

·The
book was partially inspired by my anger towards the movie Hitman when Agent 47 and Nika didn’t have a romantic relationship.
I was so distraught over that! The woman and romance lover in me decided to
take that secret love affair some of us have with deadly men and make it romantic.

·The
other part of my inspiration for writing KILLING SARAI came from the song Father Figure by George Michael.

·While
although Sarai didn’t get to finish school and had limited means of education
while at the compound, she is very intelligent both book-wise and street-wise.
And she is a fast learner.

·Sarai
has spit in Izel’s food so many times she lost count.

·Victor
and his younger brother, Niklas, are one in the same but entirely different.
They are both fiercely loyal to each other and those they love and are both
skilled killers, but Niklas is untamed and undisciplined, which creates a
constant wedge between the two.

·Victor
has never been in love. Ever. Niklas, on the other hand, although he preaches
to Victor about avoiding relationships and how falling in love will only get
him killed, secretly loved a woman once.

·The
woman that Niklas once loved was secretly killed by none other than Victor.

·Sarai
pulled one of her own wisdom teeth out with a pair of pliers because she had no
way of getting dental care while in Mexico. And even though Javier would’ve
made sure she got the care, Sarai refused to tell him for fear of Izel finding
out and trying to remove the tooth for her.

I raise the gun a little higher, settling the barrel at the back of her head, but not touching it. I don’t want her to be afraid before she dies and although I know she fears nothing, death is something we all fear in our final moment even if only the smallest part of us is conscious of it. I don’t want her to fear it at all and she can’t if she doesn’t know that it’s happening.

“How old were you when you became what you are?” she asks.

Caught off guard by the question and maybe more-so by the shifting of the mood, I hesitate before answering.

“I was nine.”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes with the hand near her cheek.

“You were very young,” she goes on. “I guess in a way like me, you never had a chance to live a life of your choosing. I guess maybe we aren’t really so different from each other.” She pauses. “Except I might be more like your brother than I care to admit. He’s as angry as I am.”

I release my finger from the trigger and slowly, so she doesn’t know, move the barrel away from the back of her head.

“It must’ve been hard growing up with Niklas,” she says.

I set the gun back on the bed next to me and before I know what I’m doing I’m cradling the back of her head in my hand again.

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